Thursday, December 14, 2017

Prince of Darkness




Rating: R
Run Time: 102 minutes
Director: John Carpenter
Starring:  Donald Pleasence, Lisa Blout, Jameson Parker

In Prince of Darkness, Satan is extraterrestrial subatomic antimatter composed of a large clear cylinder full of swirling green fluorescent fluid…and he’s trying to bring his dad back from the “Dark Side.”  Jesus, beyond merely trying to lead us to salvation by demonstrating for us the supreme sacrifice, also tried to tell us about the green shit in the form of a series of writings that were transcribed over and over again in different languages.  Oh, and the green stuff is emitting data in the form of extremely complicated differential equations that were not thought to exist in the day this substance dates from. 

Now, the heretofore dormant green shit is beginning to stir, it seems, and John Carpenter’s favorite doom-monger, Donald Pleasance, this time a priest and not a psychiatrist, has begun to sound the death alarums in that demonstration of muted hysteria that only Donald Pleasance can do.  Who does he call upon to forestall the end times?  Not any religious group, but two academic researchers and a group of their graduate students.  What do they hope to accomplish?  Well, I don’t know.  What they do is bring in their sophisticated equipment and begin to analyze the mystery.

Prince of Darkness/POD is the second of Carpenter’s self-titled apocalypse trilogy, after the The Thing and before In the Mouth of Madness.  Given that they were released in 1982, 1987, and 1995, and considering that the thematic similarities are really only tenuous, I think it is safe to say there was little or no conscious design on Carpenter’s part at the time to link these films in any substantive way.  It’s easy to suggest the connection at a later time, and I do not doubt Carpenter has an affinity for films whose plot elements include the potential for ultimate annihilation (not only the so-called trilogy, but most of his other films suggest, even if ostensibly on a smaller scale, that the stakes are higher than just the immediacy of the plot his protagonists are involved in: The Fog, They Live, the Escape from… movies; even Assault on Precinct 13 has that apocalyptic quality to it).   

Unfortunately, already in 1987, Carpenter’s star was on the decline, at least in the sense that, after the box-office failure of his greatest film and the commercial success of the simpler Starman, Hollywood now seemed to trust him only to make movies of more limited thematic ambition on similarly reduced budgets.  I do not know if this is the period during which it is said that he returned to “small” filmmaking, but it is certainly a small film, albeit one with very large ambitions that were not ultimately fully realized.  Please don’t understand me; I don’t intend the term “small” in relation to POD to be interpreted in a perjorative sense. 

After all, both Halloween and The Fog were small films in terms of their limited budgets, but they were successful; Halloween is certainly one of the greatest horror films ever made.  Despite being “small,” however, POD has a few ideas running around in it, even if I must admit I was not paying enough attention to discern completely or parse out those ideas.

The opening credit sequence, complete with another familiar Carpenter score, is intercut with a series of short scenes introducing many of the faces we will see throughout the movie.  Most notable is Donald Pleasance, here a priest dealing with the death of a fellow cleric who was apparently the only remaining staff clergyman at a small, abandoned church in a run-down and seemingly largely deserted part of Los Angeles.  Except for the homeless; there is an apparently endless and steady supply of homeless people here (oh, and they are all, without exception, sufferers of schizophrenia, or at least so says one of the graduate students).

This opening sequence is well-paced, as is the rest of the movie.  It reveals the stakes involved, if not in elaborate detail then in general outline, and the players who will be called upon to confront whatever it is in the abandoned church that has Pleasance’s character’s, Father Tensely Nervous, frock in a tizzy.  The music, in tandem with the montage of snippet scenes, creates a suspenseful and anticipatory mood.

Father Fretting Visibly is a priest in the employ of his Eminence the Cardinal, who is never seen.  The old priest dies while waiting to meet with the cardinal, and Father Mutedly Hysterical examines the two objects the priest brought with him, a diary and a key.  He uses the key to enter an ancient structure beneath the church that houses what can only be described as the essence of Evil in liquified form.  The diary reveals the existence of a shadowy sect of priests known as the Brotherhood of Sleep, whose mission it seems is to keep watch over the dormant liquid, lest it become active and conscious again.  The brotherhood would seem also to antedate even the Church itself by two million years, during which time its members arranged for its transference from the Middle East to the New World, enabled by Spanish conquistadors as efforts were made to proselytize the native dwellers of California.

Father No Name (I checked IMDb) seeks the help of physicist and academic, Dr. Howard Birack (huh? He’s played by Victor Wong, the little Asian actor with the gimp eye, and he doesn’t look like a Howard Birack; maybe he was adopted), an unbeliever who instead is a proponent of the idea that the explanations we seek are to be found at the subatomic level.  Given what he read in the diary, the cleric would seem to agree, and thinks even the answer to the question of evil’s origin can be explained with recourse to science.  He hopes the academics will be able to, essentially, prove the existence of evil to a non-believing world.

Among these academics are several graduate students of Birack’s and another professor.  Dr. Birack does not share with anyone, at least initially, the cause for concern that was impressed upon him by Father Pleasance, so, all those students an academics get to work.  Among them is Brian Marsh (Jameson Parker, of “Simon & Simon” fame) and a whole bunch of other folks whom you may or may not have seen in other films.   Jessie Lawrence Ferguson is Calder, a big, tall black guy with this creepy laugh-cry he does after his zombification…oops, spoiler.  Sorry.        

Well, no sooner do the academics get their equipment hooked up and running than they discover something the deceased priest must have instinctively sensed: the liquid is becoming active, changing, awakening.  It calls to the homeless crowd outside the church, which it has been causing to stir for a while, to effectively barricade the researchers within, trapping them.  It begins to zombify certain team members, who kill and zombify others, until there is only a small group of survivors who remain.  It selects a surrogate, who has what looks like a raised burn or infected area on her right upper arm that looks like an ankh, to be the vessel to contain Satan.  He must apparently take corporeal form to enact what he wants to do: bring back his Father from the Dark Side. 

What’s that you say?  Satan has a father.  Of course, you didn’t know that?  You must have missed that CCE lesson.  Oh, and Satan and his father are antimatter.  Because if, like, God is like God God, then, the Anti-Christ (and his dad) must be the anti-God.  And if God is created of matter (which was not even postulated in this movie, which no one in this movie ever even suggests was either proven or considered, which is antithetical to most Christian teaching which suggests God is Spirit, which is entirely unknown period anyway), well then, certainly, Satan must  be antimatter.  What you just heard was the sound of me throwing down the bullshit card, because that, my friends, is bullshit…bullshit.              

The idea that, in an increasingly secular, not necessarily rational, but secular, world, the idea of Ultimate Eeevilll being real and Satan being it greatest adherent is an outmoded, unsophisticated concept is not only a product of Enlightenment thinking but a latent byproduct of the anti-authoritarianism of the 60s and 70s.  If you don’t believe in God, then you certainly don’t believe in the anti-God either.  POD condemns neither the rational-scientific nor the spiritual.  The film demonstrates the two working harmoniously.  In fact, Carpenter may posit some co-existence between the two forces.  There may be a rational explanation for God.  Yet rational and knowable are not synonymous.  And one thing I always admire about John Carpenter, one attribute of his film making that I love, is this: his characters are generally resilient and strong; his men and women are equal to the challenge presented by the adversary; they may not ultimately triumph, but they will fight and demonstrate courage in extremis. 

There is a certain cynicism that purports to be realism that we see increasingly in modern cinema; I don’t know if art reflects life or not in this instance.  Just as in the realms of spirituality or religion, the adherents of resistance to the adversary (whatever it be) are treated with contempt for being naïve and unsophisticated.  The nihilism that informs most modern horror, whether apocalyptic or not, suggests that human weakness is the norm (courage, whether physical or moral, is merely a chimera).  What a dire future there is for us if their sensibility triumphs.

Oh, and Alice Cooper cameos as one of the homeless people.

    







        






 





















Thursday, December 7, 2017

Maniac Cop I, II, & III

Rating: R
Run Time: 85 min
Director: William Lustig
Starring: Tom Atkins, Bruce Campbell 

You have the right to remain silent…forever, mutha-fucka!

In this unique trilogy, Maniac Cop Matt Cordell kills the living shit out of just about any and everything that breathes or has a pulse in 1980s New York City.  I’m still not absolutely sure why he does this, and his motive becomes increasingly more obscure in each successive film.  Across all three, he also becomes progressively more hideous in appearance, too.   I’m not sure why this happens either, but it does.  However, in order to make some sense of this strange phenomenon, I’d like to offer a little thing I call the Jason Vorhees Doctrine (which I pulled out of my ass about three seconds before I wrote those words down). 

As we know of the F13 franchise, every new makeup artist, from Tom Savini to Carl Fullerton to who knows who else and on, came up with a new rendition of everyone’s favorite zombie goalie.  Because of the tortuous F13 timeline, this could be excused to some degree.  But the bottom line is this:  Jason never looks one goddamned bit like he did in the movie before.  He’s like the David Bowie of indestructible zombie serial killers.  In F13 I, he’s the English Bob Dylan; in II, he’s Ziggy Stardust; in III, he’s the Thin White Duke.  Like, am I right? Fist pump, everybody!  Fuck yeah!

This is what I mean: In F13 I, he’s a grossly deformed, bald adolescent boy.  Why is he bald?  I don’t know.  Anyway, although the intra-film time lapse between I and II is only a few months, in F13 II, he grows from a teenager to a grown-ass man with a full head of hair and a beard, too.  And he doesn’t look anything like he did when he was a kid In F13 III, he has either made a trip to the barber or undergone the most aggressive chemotherapy treatment imaginable…overnight, mind you.  ...and he looks like a fucking human pig.   I won’t further belabor Jason’s amazing chameleon-like shape-shifting ability because one day I’m going to have to visit that franchise and I want to be fresh for what will surely be a grueling experience.

Yet Jason’s Story is truly a grand bildungsroman-like saga that stretches across some of the most significant periods in American history.  Matt’s evolves over a contiguous and brief stretch of time; each movie starts where the one before it left off.  And it’s all in that crappy, squalid late 70s-early 80s New York City of the pre-Guliani era.  The same one that William Lustig, who directed all the Maniac Cop thrillers, utilized in his earlier exercise in serial killer squalor, Maniac.  Essentially, Matt Cordell took Manhattan long before Jason ever thought of hitching a ride on that shitty-looking barge that magically traversed from Crystal Lake to some port in the Hudson Harbor.  But let us not tarry further in our journey.

Maniac Cop opens with a scene where a gargantuan dude in a police officer’s uniform, ill-lit and in shadows, kills a poor woman who is fleeing from a couple of hijackers who are right out of Ethnic Bad Guy Central Casting.  The cop wrings her neck, snapping it, while crushing her larynx as well.  Why does he do this?  For absolutely no fucking good reason at all, that’s why.  This is not immediately apparent, however.  The body is discovered the next day and the investigation is being conducted by a lone homicide detective played by…Jake fucking LaMotta!  As in former lightweight boxing champion of the world Jake LaMotta, Scorcese Raging Bull as played by DeNiro Jake LaMotta.  

Jake doesn’t keep the case long, however, as it is soon apparent that a series of murders involving the same hulking dude in a cop’s uniform are occurring throughout the Big Apple.  Lieutenant Frank McCrae (Tom Atkins, B-movie stalwart who always, always gets the hot chicks in these movies, and God only knows why because he’s not particularly good-looking in the conventional sense; he sleeps with Jamie Lee Curtis herself in Carpenter’s The Fog, which is just damned creepy, man, because he looks old enough to be her grandfather) assumes the case and soon becomes convinced that the killer is not just a guy dressing up like a police officer, but really is a police officer.  I don’t know why.  As far as I was concerned, it’s 50/50.  What kind of cop carries a concealed saber in his nightstick?  Or wears silly-ass, foppy white gloves? 

There is an interesting sociological sub-story in the movie that is revealed through media images, involving the development of an ever-increasing distrust of police officers by practically all of New York’s citizenry.  Since when have people ever trusted police officers, I’d really like somebody to tell me.  Still, I watched the first movie relatively soon after the whole Michael Brown, Eric Garner controversy that culminated in the deaths of NYPD officers, Rafael Ramos & Wenjian Liu.  I mean, really, fuck people!  Anyway, so nobody likes cops, there’s a shocker for you.

Soon enough a suspect in these murders (a, get this, cop), is developed when his wife is murdered after she catches him in flagrante delicto with another woman.  The wife had already become all but convinced that her husband, Officer Jack Forrest, was the Maniac Cop when she followed him.  Jack, by the way, is played by Bruce “If Chins Could Kill” Campbell at the height of his B-movie character actor glory, two years after Evil Dead II was released.  Jack is having an affair with Theresa Mallory (Laurene Landon).  When Jack is arrested for the murders, McCrae figures out about the affair and rightly believes Jack is withholding that knowledge to shield Theresa’s reputation.  He learns from her that the only person she told about the affair is Officer Sally Noland, who is partially disabled with a gimp left leg that necessitates she walk with a cane.  Interestingly, Sally is played by Sheree North, who was at one time groomed to become heir apparent to the increasingly erratic Marilyn Monroe. 

The Cliff Notes version is that Frank digs up the sordid skinny on the whole Cordell story, learning also that Matt and Sally were lovers.  Her injury occurred when she attempted suicide by jumping out a window after Matt was imprisoned.  Now, being a police officer, of course, she has a gun. How much easier it would have been to have just shot herself with that gun, but okay.  Frank gets from A to C by following Sally to a rendezvous with Matt in some old decrepit storage lot.  When he is discovered, Sally starts shooting into the shadows at him, using the same damned gun she should have used to kill herself.  But if she hadn’t done what she did, we wouldn’t have ourselves a movie, folks, as you’ll figure out for yourselves if you watch. 

Before long, the Maniac Cop tries to kill Theresa as she does UC roleplaying as a prostitute.  Both she and Frank, who just shows up out of fucking nowhere, shoot Matt to no effect, including several shots to the head that would have killed a mere mortal.  After this, Frank, now convinced of his innocence, tries to get Jack out of jail but Sally has figured out what Frank knows and attacks him in her best wild-ass crazy disabled lady cop fashion in the precinct station house at the same time that Matt is making his rounds killing all the rest of the police officers in the building.  Jack and Theresa make it out.  Actually, so does Frank, only he does so through an upper floor window courtesy of a pissed-off Matt, who has up and killed Sally now, too.  I mean, this guy just beats the living shit out of the only person in the whole damn movie who even cares for him.  See what I mean by motiveless, indiscriminate killing?   

Anyway, the two survivors next visit Sing Sing and learn everything about everything on the Cordell front just before the final confrontation that ends the film.  And the ending is not even equivocal, folks.  It is made very clear that Matt is still alive.  Somewhere along the line, he has also become indestructible for no goddamned good reason at all.  In just one movie.  Whereas even the arbitrary F13 series took four before blessing Jason with immortality, Matt has gone from someone clinging to life with a faint pulse and no brain activity to full-on “you can’t kill me, ‘cause I’m already dead” mode.         
        
Maniac Cop’s not a bad movie.  It’s well-acted by a group of memorable B-movie stalwarts, including Shaft himself, Richard Roundtree, as police commissioner.  People you think will make it suddenly don’t, in a time when there was still a sense of danger about such horror/exploitation fare as this.  There is also a neat way that the killer cop is just sort of there when somebody looks his way that is super creepy.  It’s an editing trick, I think, and I am unfortunately not the kind of movie aficionado who appreciates cinematography, editing, sound mixing in any sophisticated sort of way at all…unless something sucks, I don’t register such aesthetics consciously.  I’m of the “hey, that looks like shit,” or “hey, that sounds like shit” persuasion.  Still, it is a movie made by people who did seem to care, which is itself a virtue in that 80s-era cash-grab atmosphere that clung so tenaciously to the slasher formula which form was already absolutely on its last legs when the first Maniac Cop came out (slasher era mach 1, that is).   

I have a few quibbles:  this guy’s supposed to be fucking brain-dead or some shit, yet he plots to frame another guy for the killings in a manner way, way uncharacteristic of any 80s serial killer outside of perhaps Freddie Krueger.  And his nefarious plot is far more sophisticated in its construction and intent than anything I’ve ever seen in a slasher flick.  His rationale is this: killing innocent people will discredit the police department such that doing so will lead to the downfall of those Cordell blames for the predicament that sent him to prison on trumped-up charges in the first place.  WTF?  That would require machinations that go far beyond just killing innocents on the streets of NYC. 

So, yes, there are a few problems with this theory.  First, it is strongly suggested that what landed Matt in prison prior to the events we see in the first movie was that, as an old-school police officer, he was violating the ever-loving shit out of people’s civil rights while doing his job.  It is implied that this is the only way a cop can see results or effect a change.  That logic is counterintuitive at best.  Beyond that, even, police officers can and do go to prison for doing exactly the sort of thing that he was apparently doing.  So whose fault is it you landed in Sing Sing, Mr. Badass?  Second, it is not at all clear that the people in power who allegedly screwed him for being NYPD’s greatest detective are the same people who are in still in power now.  With the exception of Richard Roundtree, who apparently was…I think. 

Oh, my.  I’m at almost 2,000 words and haven’t said a damned thing about Maniac Cop 2 and Maniac Cop 3: Badge of (get this) Silence, so let’ wrap it up.  Matt just sorta decides to show up and start the killing again in the next two, including more people you think aren’t going to get theirs…who do.  Yeah, and Robert Davi joins the cast in two and three and somehow manages to wildly overact in a subdued manner; it’s really amazing to watch, but how is that possible?  And, as I noted earlier, Matt continues to decompose at an alarming rate.  I suspect perhaps the series ended because there just wasn’t enough left of him to keep killing people.  A pity.  Why not Maniac Cop IV: Skeleton Cop?  


The Horror Inkwell Rating: 5/10